


Mr. and Mrs. Poots

by javajunkie



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Romance, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 22:40:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5182331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/javajunkie/pseuds/javajunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skye and Ward pose as an engaged couple to infiltrate Quinn Worldwide.   SKYEWARD</p><p>Set pre-"The Asset" in S1.  Slightly AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first AOS story and I took some liberties in storyline. With that said, I hope you enjoy!

 Mr. and Mrs. Poots: Chapter One  

Ward thought he was hearing things when walked in on FitzSimmons in the lab, and heard the most ludicrous proposition.  He had his mind on the ICER, wanting to know how things were progressing with the latest redesign.  He’d wanted a smoother discharge when he pulled the trigger, and the two scientists began floating ideas between them in their typical oblivious-to-the-world way before he’d even gotten out of the lab.  Today they weren’t talking about his gun, though.  They were talking about Skye, and how she was going on her first solo mission.   Which was impossible. She’d barely mastered disarming an assailant, and on a solo mission you needed to know a lot more than that.

            “What do you mean Skye’s going on a solo mission?”  Ward snapped.

            Simmon’s eyes went wide, and she stammered, “Did no one tell you?”

            Damn right they hadn’t, Ward thought.  He felt another surge of irritation at that realization. He was her SO, dammit. These were the discussions that he should be a part of.  Namely so he could end them.

            “Excuse me,” Ward said in a low voice.  “I need to talk to Coulson.”

            He stalked out of the lab, and made his way toward Coulson’s office. He walked past May, and taking in only the set of his shoulders and his tight jaw, May warned, “Don’t try to fight him on this.  His mind’s made up. Skye’s, too.”

            Ward ignored her, focus set solely on his target: Agent Phil Coulson.   When he got to Coulson’s office, he saw that the man had company.  Skye leaned against the desk, her fingers working tirelessly at her phone. She always was looking into something, and he could tell from the crease between her eyebrows that she was deep into whatever she was looking at.

            “Anything good?”  Coulson asked.

            “I don’t know about the location,” Skye said, voice serious. “But, the building has a pool. Living out of a van for most of my adult life, I can’t say I know much about apartment pools, but they seem like a win-win.”

            Ward blinked rapidly.  She was about to go on a solo mission where she likely would end up dead, and they were discussing apartments?  His hope that either of them would have any common sense with this situation dissipated quickly.

            Coulson noticed Ward standing in the doorway and said, “Hello Agent Ward. I was wondering how long it would take for you to show up in my doorway.  You can step in, you know.  We don’t bite.”

            “Hey, so guess who just got her first solo assignment?”  Skye said proudly.  When he didn’t answer she pointed one slim finger toward herself and said, “Spoiler alert. It’s me.”

            “I heard,” Ward said warily.  He turned his attention to Coulson.  “And I’d like to say that I think I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

            “Hey,” Skye said unhappily.

            He held a hand out toward her, which she didn’t take kindly, and said, “She’s not ready.  She’s come a long way since we started, but you can’t honestly believe that she’s ready for a solo mission.”

            “I do believe she is,” Coulson returned calmly.  “Besides, this op was practically made for her. Actually it was. Literally.  She made it herself”

            Ward shook his head in confusion.  “I don’t understand.  What do you mean?”

            “Do you remember Ian Quinn?”

            Ward nodded, rubbing at his jaw irritably.  “Yeah, he was on Shield’s radar a few years ago. What about him?”

            “Recently we received intel that he kidnapped Dr. Franklin Hall. You may remember that Dr. Hall is a particularly important asset for us with his work with gravitonium.”

            “Yeah, I remember,” Ward said shortly.  “What does this have to do with Skye?”

            “It turns out our intel was wrong.  Hall went willingly, and is now supplying Ian Quinn with what we can only imagine is a limitless supply of gravitonium and whatever else he’s worked up in his genius physicist brain.”

            “So, you’re sending Skye to find out what Quinn plans to do with Hall’s inventions,” Ward said, already not liking where this was going.  “How are you getting her close to him?”

            “We already handled that.  Turns out Quinn Worldwide’s hiring.”

            “And you just happened to get the job?”  Ward asked Skye.

            “No, I didn’t just _happen_ to get the job,” Skye returned, leaning against Coulson’s desk.  She crossed her arms over her chest.  “I hacked into Quinn’s email account and had him send an email to himself saying to hire me.  I also snuck into the mainframe and replaced every other interview candidate with myself.  Quinn called offering me the job four hours later.

            “How do you know this isn’t a trap?”  Ward pressed. 

            “Quinn likes to collect talent,” Coulson said.  “That’s exactly what Skye is in this situation.”

            “I know what I’m doing here, Ward,” Skye said resolutely.

            Ward sighed, deciding to try a different tactic, and walked forward, laying his hands on her shoulder.  “I know that you want to get out into the field.  I understand that.  And what you did was impressive.  Frankly, it was sort of genius.  Your time will come to be out in the field on your own, but it’s not now.  Wait.  Let yourself become properly trained.”

            “I don’t need to be properly trained,” Skye said.  “I’ll be sitting behind a desk for months. I’m good at that already.”

            Ward stared down at her, suddenly catching on to why her and Coulson had been talking about apartments.  He dropped his hands and looked back at Coulson.  “You’re sending her on a long-term op?  Coulson-“

            “Skye feels she can handle this.  The op is happening.”

            “But-“

            “The decision has been made, Agent Ward,” Coulson said, his voice snapping with finality.  “There will be no more discussion.”

            Ward could practically feel the cogs of his brain spin.  He was used to thinking on his feet, but he was at a complete loss with how to stop what he was fairly certain would be a disastrous course for Skye. She wasn’t trained well enough. She’d be fine behind the monitors, that much he knew.  But what happened if something went wrong?  What if Quinn got suspicious?  No extraction team would be quick enough to stop the bullet that would be heading directly for her back. The mission was suicide by herself.

            By herself.

            “Send me too,” Ward said decisively.

            Coulson stared at him.  “What?”

            “It’ll be another set of eyes to watch.  To make sure that she doesn’t get in over her head.”

            “I don’t need a babysitter,” Skye spat.

            Ward knew that she took offense at anyone going toward her independence, so he rephrased and emphasized, “If Quinn is going to use the gravitonium, or whatever else Hall develops for him, he needs to be monitored. It’s more than following the digital trail.   I’m sure at some point we’re going to want to get our hands on whatever Hall makes for Quinn. You need someone who can monitor the base operations.  Someone who can get in and out without being detected.  You need a specialist.”

            “Bullshit,” Skye said, but Coulson was less hostile to the idea.

            “You have a point,” he said slowly.

            Skye’s head snapped toward Coulson’s, and she murmured, “Seriously?”

            “It would be useful to have someone on the ground there if we need to raid the headquarters at any point,” Coulson explained.  “And it wouldn’t hurt to have another set of eyes on you.”

            Ward could see Skye’s irritation at him highjacking her mission and he told her, “Don’t worry, I won’t interfere with your part in this.”

            Skye shook her head and pushed off Coulson’s desk with the back of her heel. She brushed past him and muttered, “Whatever.”

            “She’ll warm up to the idea,” Coulson said happily.  “And if not, it’s going to be a long few months.”

 

* * *

 

 

            They met back in Coulson’s office a few hours later to go over the details of the newly minted partner mission.  Ward was feeling pretty good about himself and how the situation turned out, until he saw the cover Coulson gave them.  Only his name was changed – which made sense considering Skye had personally finagled her way into a job – but Coulson added one titillating detail, and a largely unnecessary one in Ward’s opinion, of him and Skye being engaged.

            “There is no way anyone is going to believe that I am engaged to him,” Skye said, pointing a finger at Ward.  “ I mean, come on.”

            “Then you guys will have to really sell it,” Coulson returned calmly.

            “Sir, are you really sure this is necessary?”  Ward asked. 

            “Given Skye’s newly acquired position at Quinn Worldwide, she will be able have access Quinn.  Something that you may find valuable down the line, Agent Ward.  This will give you a legitimate reason to be in the headquarters. To go to the parties and the Monday night happy hours where all the gossip happens.  Trust me.  This is the way to go.”

            “If you say so, sir,” Ward said in a low voice.

            “Everything you need to know about your cover is in your file,” Coulson said. “You both leave in the morning.”

            Ward flipped open the file, grimacing when he saw his new name printed in bold.

            “George Poots,” Ward read aloud.

            Skye reacted immediately, grabbing his file and saying, “Let me see.”

            “It’s right there,” Ward said, pointing at the name.  “Poots.”  He shook his head. “Who comes up with these names?”

            Skye shoved the file back toward him and muttered, “I am going to kill Coulson.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that - chapter two not even twenty four hours after chapter one! I wish I could promise all updates this quickly, but that's sadly not the case. Hope you enjoy this!! Also, I can't remember if everyone slept on The Bus. Let's just pretend they do!

Chapter Two

            Skye sat on her bed, legs stretched out in front of her and back pressed against the backboard of her bed.  Her laptop rested on her lap, and she typed furiously as she fixed Coulson’s little joke. She could deal with Ward being with her on the mission.  Maybe he’d even loosen up a bit and act like an actual human being.   That name, though.   Poots. She couldn’t deal with that.

            It only took a few key strokes and loops through surprisingly lacking firewalls before she’d made her way into the case file and switched Ward’s fake name out to his real one.  She was using her real name anyway, and SHIELD was buried too deep for even someone like Quinn to find out highly guarded secrets like agent names.

            She typed her way out of the case file, covering her tracks, and when she was finished went, “Nice try, AC.”

            It occurred to her then that Coulson knew she could just hack her way into the file and change the name.  

            “Son of a –“

            A knock on her door stopped her mid sentence, and she shook her head a bit before calling out, “Come in.”

            The door opened and Grant Ward stepped in, looking too big for the small room. He closed the door behind him and she pulled her knees up toward her chest, the keyboard of her laptop pushing up into her sternum.

            “What are you doing here?”  Skye asked. “Don’t you think we’ll get enough togetherness on our mission, _partner_.”

            Ward frowned slightly and said, “That’s what I wanted to talk about.”

            “Look, we don’t have to talk,” Skye said levelly.  “I get it.  You don’t trust me out in the field.  You think I’ll get myself killed.  It’s a disaster waiting to happen.  I heard it all in Coulson’s office.”

            “You are not the problem, Skye,” Ward said slowly.  “It’s your lack of training.  And that’s on me.  I should have been taking you to the mats earlier.  I should have been getting you to the firing range.  I should have trained you.”

            At the end of all of that, Skye could only ask, “Is taking someone to the mats really a thing?”

            Ward blinked rapidly.  “Yes. It’s a thing.”

            “Really? Because it doesn’t sound like a thing. It sounds like something that someone just makes up on the spot.  Like, hey, this sounds sort of cool.  And then they say it like it’s a thing when it’s really not.”

            Ward exhaled sharply.  “It’s a thing, okay?  It’s…” he trailed off when he saw that she wasn’t convinced, and really, why were they fighting over some stupid phrase?  That wasn’t why he was there.

            “I don’t want you to think that I don’t trust you out there,” Ward said, trying to get back to what he’d been trying to say before.  “I do.  If anyone could make something work out of pure determination, it’d be you. But the field is unpredictable. You need more than determination or luck.  You need to be able to adapt and react.”  He paused and added, “And sometimes you need to be able to shoot your way out of a room of assailants. It’s more than just being smart or determined, Skye.”

            She observed him silently, trying to find the bluff, the disingenuous bit that would tell her that this was all a front and he was forcing his way into her mission because he didn’t trust her as an agent. Or maybe he didn’t think she should have been one in the first place.  Because that was always the underlying fear, wasn’t it?  That this family she’d fallen into would one day abandon her. That they would look at her and realize they’d all made some terrible mistake.  But Ward’s apparent sincerity didn’t have any of the usual tells, not even when she held his gaze a beat too long.

            “Okay,” she said simply.

            “Okay,” Ward repeated, a bark of a laugh leaving his mouth. “It was that easy?”

            She thought about how for all the time she’d known Ward he’d barely said half of what he just rattled off, and said, “That wasn’t easy.”

            Ward shrugged.  “I’m your SO. It’s my job to help you become an agent, not tear you down when you try.”

            She thought about that for a moment, and asked, “Are you training me to become a specialist, too?”

            “What?”

            “You know, since you’re a specialist it would make sense if you were training me for the same thing.”

            Ward shook his head and smiled slightly.  “You’re not the specialist type.”

            “What’s that supposed to mean?”

            “Look at May and I, and look at you.”

            He raised his eyebrows, and she raised hers back, shaking her head as she said, “Still not seeing where you’re going with that.”

            “We’re not big on relationships.  Or people. You thrive on that.”

            “I wasn’t seeing a lot of people in my van,” Skye returned glibly.

            Ward smirked.  “You may not have been seeing them, but you were interacting with them. You were built to work with people, Skye. It’s one of your strengths. And the best thing I can ever teach you is to not downplay any of your strengths.  Use them to your advantage.”

            “Speaking of using strengths to one’s advantage,” Skye began, “I hacked into our case file for this whole shindig we’re going on tomorrow and changed your name.”

            “You changed my name?  Why?”

            “I can’t be engaged to a George Poots.  No one would believe that.”

            “Maybe you weren’t going to take my name.”

            “Oh, I definitely was not taking your name,” Skye said easily. “That’s an archaic tradition, anyway. When you’ve spent years growing into your own name, why would you want to take on someone else’s?”

            “Maybe because your name is Poots,” Ward offered with a remarkably straight face.

            “Ha ha,” Skye returned drily.  “I changed it back to your name.  Figured it’d be easier to keep straight through all of this.  Just plain old Skye and Grant Ward.”

            “It works for me.” 

            They fell silent for a moment, and in the beat of silence Ward slipped his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and said, “Well, I better get going. I need to pack still.”

            “This Grant Ward probably wouldn’t wear that one black t-shirt you like so much,” Skye offered.  “The one with the holes?”

            Ward frowned. “It doesn’t have that many holes.”

            “It’s important to really embrace your cover,” Skye said, mimicking what Coulson had told them earlier when he’d talked them through their fake engagement. “Fully inhabit it.”

            “You’re hilarious,” he said, turning and leaving.  As he walked down the hallway, Skye called after him, “I’m here all night!”

 

* * *

 

 

            Skye tried to fall asleep, but found herself only staring up at the ceiling, counting the watermarks up there for the eighteenth time.  Her stomach was coiled into about a thousand knots, and she couldn’t find any comfortable position in her bed.  She’d been nervous about the mission since she first wormed her way into Quinn’s mainframe, but it had gotten worse since Ward pushed his way in. Before, at least it would only be her out there.  She was resourceful, and trusted that she could work her way out of any binds her inexperience may have gotten her into.  She’d work it out, get out, and no one would need to know. 

            Now Ward would know.  And he didn’t seem the type to forget.  While having him watching out for her should have lessened her nerves, it only made them pull tighter. She’d have someone questioning her every move now.  Someone watching over her shoulder and making her second guess.  And along with all of that, was the persistent, and irritating, fear that she’d disappoint him somehow.  He was her SO, after all.  She’d had visions of triumphantly coming back from her first solo mission, and him beaming down at her from the rest of Team Bus.  She craved that pride.  That approval. Now she really wouldn’t be able to wholly claim any victory.  In the back of her mind, she’d always wonder if she only did it - if it only worked - because he was there. 

            After another long stretch of tossing and turning, she climbed out of bed and left her room, walking out into the hub of the plane. She actually walked around the plane a decent amount at night.  She liked how quiet it was, peaceful almost.  She went over to the kitchen area, some water sounding nice, and stopped short when she saw Ward.  He was nursing a tumbler of what looked like scotch.  The tall bottle next to him confirmed it.  She went to turn back, not wanting to disturb him, when he said, “You can stay, Skye.”

            “I’m surprised you noticed me,” she said.  “Did your spidey sense tingle or something?”

            Ward smirked. “No, I heard your footsteps a few moments ago.  You’re also a bit of a mouth breather.”

            Unnecessarily taken aback at that, she stammered, “Take that back.”

            “Do you want a drink?” he asked, reaching forward and grabbing the bottle.

            “No, I won’t bother you.”

            “You’re not bothering me.”

            She hesitated for a moment, but then walked forward and joined him. He got up momentarily to get a glass from the cabinet, and then settled across from her.  He poured her a glass and noted, “I’m guessing you couldn’t sleep.”

            “My mind won’t turn off.”

            “I’d like to say that gets better, but it doesn’t.  I never can sleep the night before a mission.”

            “So, is this what you normally do?  Break open the scotch?” Skye asked.  She took a sip, wincing slightly.  Hard liquor was never really her thing, but she felt it’d be wrong to pass up the potential bonding. If her and Ward were going to be spending all this time together starting tomorrow, it was time to open up.

            “Not always,” he said.  “But it felt right tonight.”

            Skye glanced at the clock, which read 2:05 a.m., and she said, “You’re not even three hours into being engaged to me and I’ve already driven you to drink.”

            He laughed – a real laugh – and she thought to herself that he should do it more often.

            “Have you done long-term ops like this before?”  Skye asked.

            “A few,” he said. 

            “Were you engaged in those, too?”

            He took a sip of his scotch.  “A few.”

            She smirked.  “A few of the few, huh? Is that code for all of them?”

            “No.”

            “Maybe engaged long term-ops are your thing,” Skye teased.

            “I prefer working alone,” he returned.  “But sometimes a partner is necessary.”

            Skye leaned forward, forearms flush against the tabletop, and murmured, “Did it physically pain you to say that?”

            Ward’s mouth quirked at a smile, but he covered it with a sip of his scotch.

            “We should make a toast,” Skye said suddenly. 

            “A toast?”

            “Yeah, kind of like how they smash a champagne bottle against a new ship for good luck,” Skye said.

            “We don’t need luck.”

            “I know we don’t,” she spelled out slowly.  “But I still think it’d be a nice way ring in our new mission.” She pointed at his glass of scotch and said, “You sort of already started it with your drink.”

            “You really want to make a toast?” 

            Skye nodded.

            “Okay.” He raised his glass in the air, thinking for a moment.  “To partnerships.”

            “To us not killing each other over the next few months.”

            They clinked glasses, and then each finished off their scotches. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this! If you did, PLEASE leave feedback. I appreciate kudos/bookmarks but I appreciate your thoughts EVEN MORE!


	3. Chapter Three

  Chapter Three

          Skye was surprisingly quiet on their drive out of the city and toward Quinn Worldwide.  It was on the outskirts of New York City, where presumably a bit of evil mastermind work would typically go unnoticed.  People never paid attention to the outskirts.  They were easy to overlook with all the opulence and traffic just ten minutes down the freeway. 

            Ward never enjoyed long car rides in the past, but after being cooped up on The Bus for so long, he actually enjoyed the open road.  He liked the fact that he could pull off the road and step out into fresh air in an instant.  You didn’t have that option on a plan unless you had a parachute strapped to your back. He glanced over at Skye, wondering what she was thinking as she watched the scenery pass.  She’d barely said a word since they left the team. Coulson had been characteristically buttoned up, although he could tell from the tight grip on Skye’s shoulder when he told her to be careful that he was worried.  May showed even less emotion, which stood in stark contrast to Jemma Simmons, who all but threw herself at Skye, hanging on her like a spider monkey.

            “You’re going to be okay, alright?”  Jemma had said with cheer so forced that it came out sharp. “I’m going to see you at the end of all of this.  That’s the way it’s going to be.”

            “We’re not infiltrating some terrorist organization,” Skye had returned wryly. She paused for a second and then looked back at Coulson.  “We’re not, right?”

            With a tight-lipped smirk, Coulson shook his head and said, “You’re not.”

            Skye let out a relieved exhale.  “See, you heard what AC said.  I’m going to be fine.”  She glanced back at Ward. “We’re both going to be fine.”

            She shared this brilliant smile with him then, the type that would make any average man forget what exactly he was doing and why he was doing it, but for him only caused the slightest distraction.  But, for Grant Ward, even the slightest distraction was significant. He’d cleared his throat markedly, turning toward Coulson for another run-through of their itinerary that he didn’t need.  But, with each repeated direction he could feel his control returning.  The mask clicking back in place.

            “Ready partner?”  she’d quipped, looking up at him.  He hadn’t felt her move, which was strange, because he _always_ felt people move.  It was one of his things, his mind cataloguing people’s placement and movement without him really trying.  But there she was, looking up at him with far too much excitement for a person who was about to go into deep cover for who knew how long.

            The excitement had trickled off somewhere along the turnpike. He felt it slip from the car, like air out of a balloon.  He waited for her to talk, because she was always the one talking, sometimes to an irritating degree, but her voice didn’t fill the car.  She’d barely said a word since they pulled away from The Bus.

            “Are you okay?”  he asked.

            “I’m fine.”

            “It’s okay if you’re nervous.  It takes a while for the nerves to settle, especially when you’re new.”

            “I’m not nervous,” she said, spreading her fingers out over her kneecaps.

            He expected more, for her to take that thought to the next logical step, and when she didn’t he was surprised to hear himself ask, “Then what are you?”

            He typically didn’t care.  That was one of his strong suits.  It’s what made him such a good agent.  He had his mission, and everything else was white noise.  But she wasn’t.  For some reason, he could never tune her out. 

            Skye took a deep breath.  “I guess I’m just conflicted.”

            “About the mission?”  he asked. “We can go back, you know. It’s not too late to change your mind. I can go in myself.”

            “Calm down.  You’re not hijacking my mission,” she said drily, sounding a bit more like herself.

            “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he returned.

            “I’m just…” she trailed off for a moment and licked her lips. “I’ve never had my own place before. The first place I really can remember was the orphanage, and then I floated from one foster home to another, but they were never really _my_ home, you know? I always felt like a guest, even in the few good ones.”

            “What about your van?”

            Skye laughed humorlessly.  “As much as I loved that van – “ she paused for emphasis, “ – and I _loved_ that van, it’s not a home.  You can’t have friends over in a van.  You can’t decorate a van.”

            “Fair point.”

            “I’m finally getting my own place,” Skye continued.  “A home.  And it’s all a lie. It’s even weirder because it’s technically me.  I rented it under my name. It’ll be my name on the little placard next to the door bell – and yours – but none of it’s real.”

            After trying for a few moments to think of something to say back, Ward settled for the unsatisfying, “I’m sorry.”

            Skye shrugged.  “It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault, really. Life happens, and then you just sort of have to roll with the punches.”

            Ward couldn’t deny that.  He’d handled his fair share of punches, and that was before he ever became involved with Shield.

            “Don’t think of it as a lie,” he finally said.  “Just think of it as temporary.  You won’t be there forever, but while you are, you can make it into a home.  A real one.”

            Skye shifted down in the seat, propping her heels up against the glove compartment so that her knees pressed into her chest.

            “I don’t even know that I actually know what a real home is. The whole cookies baking in the oven thing.  White picket fence.”

            “That doesn’t make a home,” Ward murmured, thinking of his own white-picket-fence childhood with the manicured lawns and cookie-baking-mother. That _homey_ veneer only hid the horrors that actually went on inside. You never looked at a freshly baked plate of cookies the same way after you saw what Ward’s mother did with the plate afterwards.

            “Then what does?”  Skye asked, glancing over at him.  “Make a home?”

            “I don’t know,” he answered honestly.  “Maybe we can find out.”

            Skye continued to look at him, her eyes travelling over the sharp angles of his face.  Her gaze began to feel unnerving, and he went, “What?”

            “You’re being nice,” she murmured.  “Why are you being so nice?”

            “I’m always nice,” he held stubbornly.

            “No, you’re not.  In fact, sometimes you’re a bit of a jerk.  But, right now, you’re nice.  You’re too nice.”

            “Hey, I have no agenda here,” he said, laughing a bit at the calculating look in her eyes.  “You’re not half bad to listen to.”

            “Really?”

            “Yes, really.  And, besides, we are going to have to pretend to be engaged for the foreseeable future. I should be nice to you. People need to believe that we like each other.”

            “Uh, more than like each other, buddy.  I wouldn’t marry someone I just liked.  Hopefully you wouldn’t either.”

            Ward shrugged.  “I guess not.”

            Skye’s mouth dropped open.  “You guess not?”

            “I can see benefits of marriage that go beyond the traditional love angle. A strategic marriage, for instance. You each gain something from the marriage.”

            Skye twisted herself toward him in her seat and said, “Whoah dude, I think the exit for the Westeros was a mile back.”

            Ward laughed.  “It’s not as ridiculous as you think.”

            “How could you stick yourself with someone for the rest of your life and not love them?  That sounds like torture.”

            “To each their own.”

            “Wow,” Skye said, facing forward again.  “I feel like I just learned so much about you from that minor exchange.”

            Ward didn’t deign that with a response.  To be honest, he’d decided pretty early on that marriage wasn’t an option for him.  And then he joined Shield, and that decision solidified.  You couldn’t lead the lives that they led with someone waiting for you at home. It didn’t work that way.

            They pulled off the highway, and a cool twenty minutes later they were pulling into the parking garage of their apartment complex.  He went to open Skye’s door, figuring that the gentleman thing probably should start sooner rather than later, but she was already up and out of the car, walking around him to grab their suitcases from the trunk. The apartment was already fully furnished, and Coulson worked overnight to make sure it was stocked with the essentials.

            “I’m sort of nervous,” Skye admitted as they took the elevator down to the main floor.  “Do we look like renters? I don’t really know what the typical renter looks like.”

            Ward noticed that she rambled when she was nervous, and he catalogued that for more thought later.  That was something that could be potentially problematic if she got caught in a bind.

            “Come on, let’s get our key.”

            They walked forward, and when Skye began her nervous chatter again he placed his hand on the small of her back to try to calm her down.  She settled a bit at his touch, but it didn’t stop her from making a rather memorable introduction to the leasing agent.

            “Sorry we’re late, someone got frisky around ten minutes out of town.”

            Ward gritted his teeth, forcing a casual grin as he smoothly said, “We’re renting unit 208.”

            “Yes, of course,” the woman said, typing away at her computer. “If I could see some identification real quick, and then we can go up to your new home.”

            Skye handed over her fake ID and Ward handed over his.  The woman pored over them as she typed away with her long, talon-like nails.  They were painted with some ocean scene, all shells and waves.

            “Here’s your ID back,” the woman said loudly, drawing his attention away from her nails. “Now, let me just print up a few forms for you both and you can head up.  Do you need a tour?  Sometimes people like a tour of the property, but –“

            “We’re fine,” Ward said.  “It was a long drive, so I think we’re about ready to crash.  Right, sweetheart?”

            He looked down at Skye, who seemed about one more “sweetheart” away from laughter. He set her with a look, and she slid her arm around his waist and pressed herself close. 

            “You are so right, _sweetheart_.” Skye looked back at the leasing agent. “We’re beat.”

            The woman gave them a bright smile, and then disappeared in the back room to get whatever she printed.  Ward looked down at Skye and murmured, “You’re laying it on a bit thick.”

            “You started it.  Sweetheart? Seriously?”

            “It’s a term of endearment.”

            “Not in this century.”

            “Skye-“

            The woman walked back out with a folder of papers and a set of keys in tow. She handed them over to Ward, who was now sans a fiancée as Skye gathered their luggage.  He glanced back at her, keys at the ready, and said, “Are you ready, Skye?”

            She smiled a bit and nodded, “Lead the way.”

            For all the nerves and conflicted feelings she had on the way into town, Skye felt nothing but pure excitement when she stepped into her very first apartment. It looked just like the pictures, but even better.  The door opened directly into the living room, which held a plush chocolate couch, sturdy wooden coffee table, and one of the largest televisions she’d even seen.

            “Nice TV,” Ward said, walking toward the large electronic.

            The small dining area was off to the side with the typical table and chairs. The kitchen was pretty typical too, and likely would see very little use as Skye barely could boil water, and she had a feeling Ward wasn’t much better.  It had a microwave, though, and that at least would get a workout.

            She wandered back into the bedroom, feeling her stomach flip as she took in what looked like possibly the most comfortable bed in existence. She laid down, scooting herself up until her head reached the pillows.  The mattress felt like heaven and molded to her body perfectly. Ward walked into the room and smirked at the sight of her nearly spread eagle on the bed.

            “Comfortable?”

            “You need to try this,” she said, scooting over so that she only took up one side of the bed.

            “You’ll be taking the bed,” he returned.  “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

            “Whatever, you still need to try this,” she said.  She propped herself up on her elbows and stared him down when he didn’t move.  “What are you waiting for? Come on.”  She patted the empty spot next to her.  “Seriously, you have to try this.”

            He raised an eye brow in challenge.

            “I’m not moving until you try this,” she said.  “Just think, our entire mission ruined.  All because you wouldn’t try out the bed. What would Coulson say?”

            “Probably that you’ve lost it.”

            Skye considered that for a moment.  “Probably.  But, come on, try it.  I’m not giving this bed up, so this is really your one and only chance to try out this mattress.”

            Ward smirked, giving up and taking the spot next to him. His body practically purred at the release from the mattress cushioning his notoriously overused muscles. Damn.  This was a good bed.

            “Right?” Skye said, turning her head toward him.

            “It’s a good bed,” he said matter-of-factly.

            They were quiet for a moment, both of them looking up at the ceiling. After a moment he turned his gaze back toward her, ignoring the pull in his chest at the sight of her profile, her eyes closed and mouth slightly parted as she took in the moment. He smiled a bit at the memory of telling her that she was a mouth breather the night before, and how unnecessarily offended she’d been.

            “So, your first home,” he began softly.  “How is it?”

            Her eyes drifted open and she glanced over at him.  “It’s not too bad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review if you are reading. Those reviews get me writing. That writing gets you more chapters. The end.


	4. Chapter 4

           Chapter Three

“You know, the night before my first mission I should be relaxing,” Skye complained, leaning against the wall and breathing heavily.  “Not being tortured.”

            “I’m not torturing you.  I’m training you. And, if you end up caught somewhere tomorrow, you’re going to be grateful we did this.”

            “The only place I’m going to be caught is behind a computer screen,” Skye grumbled. “And I’m a little offended you think I’ll blow this the first day.”

            “It has nothing to do with you,” Ward said in a placating voice. “Missions are unpredictable.”

            “Uh huh,” Skye said unconvincingly.  She grabbed her water bottle from the end table and took a long sip.

            “You need to be as prepared as you can be,” Ward continued. “Which is why we are training now. Besides, this should help you sleep.”

            “So would vegging out in front of Netflix,” Skye pointed out. When Ward gave her a look she held her hands out in front of her and added, “But, I guess this way is more productive.”

            “Let’s go through disarming someone one more time, then we can be done for the night.”

            “Finally,” Skye said, pushing herself off the wall.  “Let’s do this.”

            Ward readied his stance with his unloaded gun in place. He’d been talking her through the different movements before, but this time she did it on her own before he told her to start.  He surprised her by fluidly slipping through her practiced set of movements and slamming her body flush against his own, the curve of his arm pressed tightly against her windpipe. She froze and he murmured, “What would you do next?”

            “I thought I was supposed to be disarming you,” she breathed out.

            “You still can.”

            The cool nozzle of the gun was pressed against her temple, and she quickly went through the different options in her head.  She could try to grab the gun – a likely disastrous course. She could try to disable his wrist, but she had a feeling he’d be faster than her.  Her mind drifted, then, to something Ward hadn’t taught her.

            Just remember to S.I.N.G.

            Solar-plexus. Nose.  Instep.  Groin.

            She drove her elbow back into his abdomen and heard his sharp intake of breath. Before he could react she drove the heel of her foot down onto the top of his and spun around. She avoided the “N”, wanting to keep his nose intact, but did take the opportunity – one, frankly, she’d entertained since he first spit vitriol at her across the interrogation table – and drove her knee into his groin.  He practically dropped the gun into her open palm.

            “Where-where did you learn that?”  he asked through gritted teeth.  “May?”

            Skye shook her head.  “Sandra Bullock.”

            “What?”

            “The mom at one of the houses I stayed at for a while was obsessed with _Ms. Congeniality_. I must have seen that movie twenty times before they moved me.”

            “I can’t say I’ve seen it.”

            “Which is precisely why you didn’t see that coming,” Skye retorted, unable to keep the grin from her mouth.

            “It’s not a bad tactic,” Ward admitted.  “Although I sort of wish you didn’t try it out on me.”

            “There’s a broken nose part that I skipped,” Skye pointed out. “So, you’re welcome.”

            Ward grimaced.

            “So, are we done now?”  Skye asked. “I have an episode of Doctor Who waiting for me.”

            Ward turned around and began to walk bow-legged toward the bathroom. “Yeah, we’re done.”

 

* * *

 

 

            Skye fell asleep surprisingly fast that night after her episode (or two) of Doctor Who.  She slept all the way up to her alarm, even snoozing it twice until Ward called into the bedroom, “Weren’t you supposed to be up twenty minutes ago?”

            She dragged herself out of bed and pulled a comb through her tangled hair. She set her outfit out the night before, and was grateful that she didn’t need to think about it that morning. It was dark jeans with a grey tshirt and black bomber jacket.  She added a long necklace and a bit of makeup, and then she was ready to go. Ward was busy in the kitchen when she came out, and she wondered what he was up to.

            “Coffee,” he said, answering part of that question when he appeared with a steaming mug for her.

            “Thank you,” she said, taking it from him.  With him being so nice, she felt a bit bad about the night before and said, “Sorry for kneeing you in the groin, by the way.  I was trying to prove that I could take care of myself and might have taken it a bit far.”

            “No, it was impressive,” Ward said.  “I underestimated you.”  He took a sip of his coffee and gazed at her over the rim of his mug.  “I have to stop doing that.”

            Skye flushed at his praise, and covered it by taking a long sip of coffee. “This isn’t half bad,” she remarked. “Who knew you were such a coffee ninja.”

            Ward shrugged.  “I appreciate a good cup of coffee.”

            “I hear you,” she returned, taking another sip.

            “So, when do you start this morning?” he asked.

            “9:00 sharp,” Skye said.  “I already Google mapped my commute and it said it was exactly seven minutes.”

            Ward nodded appreciatively.  “You chose this place well.  Are you nervous to start?”

            “Not really,” Skye said.  “I’m good with computers, and that’s all today will be.  There will be too many eyes on me today to try anything. So, today, I am just a tech-ie.”

            “Do you think you’ll meet Quinn today?”

            “Probably,” she said.  “If I were him, I’d want to meet the person who broke into his personal email.”

            Ward smirked.  “Me too.”

            “I’m kind of excited to meet him,” Skye admitted.  “ I mean, I get he’s the enemy and all, but have you read anything about the guy?  He’s kind of cool.”

            Ward raised an eyebrow.  “He’s _cool_?”

            “Don’t go call Coulson or anything,” she said plainly.  “I’m not about to switch sides, but his story’s pretty impressive. He sort of reminds me of, well, me.”

            “How so?”

            “He came from nothing.  Built one of the biggest tech empires entirely on his own before he even turned thirty five. You have to admit, the guy has balls.”

            “He also is messing with technology that has the potential to wipe out a good percentage of mankind,” Ward added.  “But yeah, I guess he’s cool.”

            Skye rolled her eyes.  “Alright, alright. I need to go in case there’s traffic. Don’t want to be late on my first day.”

            She went to leave, and he followed her with a paper bag.  He handed it over and said, “Don’t expect this every day, but I thought it’d be nice for the first.”

            She opened the bag and peaked in, spying a sliced apple, cheese stick and tinfoil wrapped sandwich.  She glanced up at Ward and asked, “Did you make me a lunch?”

            Calmly he returned, “Like I said, this is a one time deal.”

            “Admit it, Ward.  You’re a bit of a softie.”

            He clenched his jaw and said, “Didn’t you have to get on the road?”

            She laughed.  “Yes, I do. And thank you for the lunch. I will savor every bite.”

            “I’ll see you when you get home.”

            “What are you going to do all day?” she asked.

            “Don’t worry about me,” he said evasively.  “I’ll keep busy.”

            “Well, that’s ominous sounding.”

            “Not at all,” he said, gently nudging her toward the door. “Have a good day at work now.”

            Skye let herself be pushed out of the apartment, wondering all the while what her fake fiancée would be getting himself into when she was gone.

 

* * *

 

 

            The first thing Skye noticed when she got to Quinn Worldwide was how bright it all seemed.  The walls were painted this almost shiny white color, and the marble floors sparkled with obviously fresh wax.  She almost was afraid to walk on the floor, lest she mar its sparkling perfection. Or slip.  That floor looked sparkly and slippery. 

            Ian Quinn hadn’t given her much in the way of introductions when he brought her onto the team a few days back.  It was only a perfunctory email, telling her what day she started and when. He added that he looked forward to meeting her, and she wondered if that would happen today. She was anxious to meet the mastermind behind Quinn Worldwide.  She’d done some reading on the company the night before, after her Netflix binge, and the company was impressive.  It had a far reach and seemed to excel in every direction it reached.

            “Skye?” a voice asked, making Skye turn around.  A small blonde smiled at her, square frames perched on what Skye could only describe as a button nose.   The blonde’s hair was in a slick ponytail near the top of her head. She wore some pink confection with a surprisingly edgy structured leather bomber.

            “Yeah, that’s me,” Skye said.

            “Great,” the blonde said, sticking out her hand.  Her ponytail bobbed from the slight movement. “I’m Felicity Smoak.”

            “Nice to meet you,” Skye said uncertainly, shaking the blonde’s hand. She had a surprisingly firm handshake, and Skye tightened hers accordingly.  “So, are you…”

            “I work in the advanced technology division,” Felicity told her. “Just like you. Mr. Quinn asked that I meet you down here and make all the proper introductions.  This place can be a little overwhelming your first day, which is why I’m here. To make it underwhelming – “ the blonde paused for a moment, “ – I mean, not _underwhelming_. We don’t want that. Definitely not. We just want something less than overwhelming.  Something a bit south of it.  Middlewhelming.”

            “Middlewhelming,” Skye repeated slowly.

            Felicity winced.  “Yeah, I probably need to work on my welcome speech if I’m going to be doing any more of this. Anyway, we can head up to our floor now. It’s the 18th, so we go to the farthest elevator bank.”

            “Do I need a security badge or anything?” Skye asked.

            Felicity shook her head.  “Nope. It’s pretty chill here. As you might have noticed, there isn’t much happening around here, so our security is pretty minimal.” She hooked a thumb toward the lone security guard stationed at the entrance.  He was a dark skinned man in his mid thirties. 

            “Wow, you weren’t kidding about it being minimal” Skye noted.

            “Yeah, but he’s about all we need really.  I’ve seen him in action – someone tried to swipe one of our advertising lady’s purses outside – and he tackled the guy right to the ground. His name’s John Diggle. Go to him if you have any questions about food.”

            “Food?”          

            “Yeah, you know, where the best burger is.  The best Chinese.  That sort of thing.”

            “Huh, good to know.”

            They walked over to the elevator banks and Felicity pushed the button. The elevator closest to them opened almost immediately, and they stepped inside.  Skye pressed floor eighteen and Felicity said, “You learn fast.”

            “I can remember basic numbers pretty well,” Skye joked.

            “Mr. Quinn will be happy to hear that,” Felicity returned in kind.

            The elevator doors opened and Felicity stepped out, making a beeline through the cubicles spread out across the floor.  There was a low hum that Skye couldn’t quite place. It almost sounded like chatter, but not quite.  Felicity stopped suddenly and pointed at an empty cubicle.

            “This is yours,” Felicity said.  “Mine is right next store, so if you need anything do not hesitate.”        
            “Wow, my first cubicle. This is a pretty momentous occasion.”

            “It’s not the best cubicle out there,” Felicity opined.  “I personally find the vent placements lacking. But it’s manageable. Plus, they don’t track our internet use – because, hello, tech people – so you can watch as much online streaming as you want in your dead time.”

            Skye nodded, silently cataloguing that fact along with the minimal security. All good things to keep in mind if things became complicated.

            “So, that’s about it.  I wish there was more to the tour, but the truth is we’re sort of boring.”

            Skye nodded.  “When do I meet Ian Quinn?”       

            “Oh, he’s usually not in the office,” Felicity said.  “He stops in here and there, but usually only when something big is happening.”

            Skye felt disappointment settled on her shoulders.  Oh well, it would be fine.  She didn’t really need Quinn for her initial snooping, anyway.

            “Great, thanks Felicity.”

            “No problem.”

            The blonde disappeared over to her cubicle, but then reappeared, pony tail bobbing again.

            “Oh, one more thing.  On Fridays we go out for margaritas.  It’s mandatory fun, so…I hope you like tequila.”

            Skye smirked.  “Do I have a choice?”

            “No, but we like to make the new hires think they do.”

            She laughed.  “Well, thanks. And a marg night sounds fun. It’ll be a cool way to ring in my first week.”

            “Definitely,” Felicity said with a bright grin. “You should have a list of initial tasks next to your keyboard.  Just holler if you have questions.”

            “Okay, I will.”

            Felicity disappeared again, and Skye faced her computer.  She stretched her arms out in front of her and flexed her fingers. After a quick glance to each side, wanting to gauge just how much privacy she had, she placed her fingers on the keyboard and began to type.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, Arrow is in a different universe than AOS. But, I couldn't help myself. It was just TOO easy to put Felicity in here! And Dig. If you play your cards right, we just might get to see a double date with Olicity and Skyeward! Hope you enjoyed this!


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

            Skye came home from her first day of work feeling both content and bone-achingly tired.  It reminded her of when she started with SHIELD.  All the newness was draining.  New people. New programs.  Skye was grateful to have Felicity there, who took her out for lunch and gave her a quick update on the people to avoid in the office and which of the bathrooms were the least crowded.

            “Take the stairs down one floor,” Felicity had advised.  “I know it seems like a lot of work, but it’s worth it to avoid the lines. Also, this one woman from marketing always talks on her phone in the bathroom.  I don’t know about you, but I want to do my business without hearing someone going on about last night’s _Scandal_.”

            Skye did her best to scope out what type of additional security the building might have outside of John Diggle, and was excited to share with Ward that the place seemed relatively unarmed.  It seemed sort of idiotic for a mastermind like Quinn, but perhaps his arrogance bore some idiocy, as well.  It turned out, her eyes weren’t quite as trained as others.

            “That security guard is just the only uniformed one,” Ward told her when she recounted what she’d seen earlier.  “I stopped by this afternoon and counted at least five in the lobby who were undercover. The place is also crawling with cameras.”

            “Are you serious?”

            Ward nodded, taking a bite of his BLT sandwich.  They were eating dinner, Skye filling him in on her day.  It had all been going so well until this. She felt useless in practically missing an entire boy band of civilian-clothed guards in the lobby. Wasn’t it her job to see that? Ward read into her silence and said, “Don’t beat yourself up for not noticing.  It takes time.”

            “I should have at least noticed the cameras,” she said.  “I’m the tech person, after all.”

            “The cameras were on the exterior, not the interior,” he said off-handedly. “So, you said someone told you Quinn’s barely there?”

            “Yeah, Felicity told me.  By the way, we’re going on a double date with her and her boyfriend Friday.”

            “We’re what?”

            “Hey, she can be useful.  If Quinn isn’t there we’re going to have to get information from somewhere else.” Skye paused and added, “Besides, she’s kind of cool.”

            Ward took another bite of his sandwich and warned her, “Be careful about getting too close.”

            “Whoah, slow down there Mr. Over-Reaction.  I’m just bonding with my coworkers.  Which, for the record, is both normal and healthy.”

            “We’re here for a reason and it’s not for you to bond with people. Besides, she could be involved.”

            “She is not involved,” Skye said dismissively.  “Believe me, once you meet her you will know she’s not involved. She’s just –“

            “What, like you?  Because you’re undercover trying to infiltrate the place.  I’m sure you haven’t shared that with her.”

            “Of course not,” Skye returned irritably. 

            “She might be hiding things, too.  Don’t underestimate the people around you.  That’s a good way to get yourself killed.”

            “I’m not underestimating anyone,” Skye said firmly.  “But, if I have to be out here in the middle of nowhere it wouldn’t hurt to have some friends.   And Felicity is nice.  Maybe she’s some evil Cylon in hiding, whatever, but for now she’s nice.”

            Ward looked at her in confusion.  “What’s a Cylon?”

            Skye shook her head.  “We have so much to watch on Netflix.”

            “I already told you, we are not watching eight thousand shows on Netflix.”

            “What else are we supposed to do?  Based on your reaction to our double date on Friday, it seems like you don’t want to interact with actual people.”

            “Hey, that’s not –“

            “And we can only train so many hours a day.  We need something to fill the unaccounted for hours.  Which just happens to be exactly what Netflix was made for. Hey, you don’t have to talk while watching.  That seems right up your alley.  The not talking thing.”

            “I talk enough,” Ward returned drily.  “What are we doing right now?”

            “You were lecturing,” Skye spelled out slowly.  “That is different than having an actual conversation.”

            “Fine,” Ward said.  “We can have a conversation. What do you want to talk about?”

            “Seriously?”

            “Yes, seriously,” Ward said placatingly.  “Whatever you want to talk about, I’m game.  We’ll have a conversation.”

            “Wow, you must really not like Netflix.”

            “I find TV shows pointless,” Ward said with a shrug.  “Why would I want to watch people shooting at each other and dismantling bombs. That’s our daily life.”

            “You know, there is more than action shows on TV.”

            “My conversation offer is off the table in five seconds.  Five.  Four. Three –“

            “Fine,” Skye said quickly.  She reached forward and grabbed her can of Pepsi, taking a quick swig.  She put it down on the table and asked, “How long have you and May been sleeping together?”

            Ward stared at her, his mouth dropping open in surprise.

            “What? I’m not –“

            “Yes, you are,” Skye interrupted, holding up a hand to stop whatever excuses were about to fall out of his mouth.  “I may not be able to detect hidden security guards or cameras, but I can tell when two people are bumping uglies.”

            Ward gave her a look and said, “That’s none of your business.”

            “You said we could talk about whatever I wanted.  There was no limiting phrase thrown in there.”

            “You’re being ridiculous.”

            “You are my fiancée, after all,” she teased.  “I should know if there’s another woman in the picture.”

            “I’m your fake fiancée,” he clarified.

            “Same difference.  So, when did it start? Did you approach her? Did she approach you? Did it just sort of happen? You’re sparring and then – wham!” Skye winced at that and said, “Actually, please tell me it’s not that.  We all use those mats.”

            “It’s only been a few weeks,” Ward said reluctantly.  “We spend a lot of time on the BUS.  It’s convenience, nothing more.”

            “Wow, aren’t you the romantic,” Skye said.  “Am I going to have to feed you lines on how to explain our relationship on Friday? Because I don’t think convenience will cut it.”

            Ward rolled his eyes.  “You don’t have to worry about Friday.”

            “Was it still going on when you left with me?”  Skye asked.  “You and May, I mean.”

            Ward shrugged. “I guess.”

            “Did she mind that you were leaving?”

            “No, like I said, it’s convenience, nothing more.”

            Skye thought about that, sleeping with someone just for the sake of sleeping with them. She had to admit, it had its allure, but she could never do it.  For her it meant something.  It always meant something, and she couldn’t imagine being as cavalier as Ward.

            “What is it?” Ward asked.  “You don’t approve or something?”

            “No,” Skye said immediately.  “It’s not my place to approve or not.  It’s your life. You can do with it whatever you want. It’s just…I can’t imagine being so detached from it all.  I guess I’m not wired that way.”

            “You’re not,” Ward said.  His voice held such finality that it surprised her.  When he saw the look on her face he said, “I told you that the night before we left, remember? You’re not built like May and I. You’re built for more.”

            “And you’re not?”  Skye pressed.

            “We see the world differently than you,” Ward explained.  “It’s…it’s like you see the world in color and we see it in black and white.  It’s just different.”

            “You try to make off like you never care, but that’s not true,” Skye said. “You’re here because you care.”

            “I’m your SO,” he said, avoiding the obvious truth in what she’d said. “It’s my job to look after you. To make sure that you are safe.”

            “Is it also your job to pack me a lunch?” she returned pointedly. “To make us dinner.”

            “We have to eat.”

            “You care, Ward,” Skye said firmly.  “Whether your stupid and stubborn self will admit it.  You’re not the robot you keep painting yourself to be.”

            Ward smiled a bit and said, “Wasn’t it you who first labeled me as that?”

            “I was wrong,” she said simply.  “And I’m glad I was.”

 

BBBBB

 

            Later that night Skye sat on the couch, watching an old episode of Battlestar Galactica on her computer.  She’d worked her way through an entire bag of popcorn, and was seriously considering a second. She went to get up when Ward walked into the living room with a bowl filled with popcorn.  She looked up at him with a small grin and asked, “What are you doing?”

            “That conversation at dinner made me realize we need a new pastime.”

            She smirked. “Afraid you’ll reveal too much?”

            Ward ignored that and sat next to her.  “I made popcorn.”

            “I can see that,” Skye said, reaching over and taking a handful.  She popped a few in her mouth.  “Hey, this is sort of sweet.  What’d you do to it?”

            “I added some sugar right when it came out of the microwave,” Ward said. “My mom used to make it a lot growing up.”

            Silently, Ward added it was the one useful thing to come out of his childhood.

            “This is genius,” Skye said, taking another handful.  “You should sell this.”

            “I think they already do.  It’s called kettle corn.”

            Skye frowned. “Oh, you’re right.”

            “So, what are we watching?”  Ward asked, settling into the couch.

            “Only one of the greatest shows ever to grace our TV screens.  Battlestar Galactica.”

            “Never heard of it.”

            Skye shook her head.  “You know so much and yet you still know so little.  You are going to get a television education, my friend.  A TV-cation.  Starting with Battlestar.”

            “Who’s that?” Ward asked, pointing at the screen.

            “That’s Lee Adama,” Skye explained.  “He is the son of Captain Adama who captains the ship.  See, they’re –“     

            “He’s holding the gun all wrong,” Ward interrupted, cocking his head to the side as he analyzed the actor’s form.  “Plus, you definitely wouldn’t check the hallway like that before turning. He’d be dead if he did that in real life.”

            “It’s not real life.  It’s a TV show,” Skye pointed out wearily, wanting to get back to explaining the show to him. “So, anyway –“

            “That is definitely not the most effective way to take down an attacker,” Ward said, watching Adama fight someone on the ship.  “See, what he should have done is twisted that guy’s arm there and then used the momentum to knock off his balance.  The way he took him down used up way more energy than necessary.”

            “Oh my God, now I get why you don’t watch TV,” Skye said irritably. “You are literally the worst at it.”

            Skye looked over at her innocently and said, “What do you mean?”

            “You overanalyze literally everything.  Can’t you just sit and watch it in silence like normal people.”

            He sighed. “Fine.  I’ll keep my comments to myself.”

            She nodded happily, and filled him in on what was happening in the episode. They proceeded to watch the episode, and while he didn’t verbalize any critiques of the episode, he did signal the parts he didn’t like with a slight shake of his head.  By the end of the episode, Skye, fed up with his disgruntled watching, brought the screen of her laptop down and murmured, “We need to find a new show to watch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Ward/May did not happen this early but it seemed to fit. Hope you enjoyed this!


	6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

 

            Skye sat at her work computer, scrolling absentmindedly through Tumblr. She finished her work a good twenty minutes earlier, and with only a little over a half our left before 5:00, she didn’t want to pick up an entirely new project.  Just to be safe, she had a separate webpage open with more appropriate workfare, and whenever she sensed someone walking past her cubicle she quickly switched over.

            She felt a such presence behind her and quickly switched over. Felicity walked over to her and said, “I saw that.  No judgment, by the way. We all have our guilty pleasures.”

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Skye said innocently.

            Felicity smirked.  “Of course you don’t. I also saw that you were on the X-Files tag.  I approve.”

            “So you believe there’s more out there, too?” Skye returned glibly.

            Felicity nodded.  “Oh, totally. We have this whole massive universe out there and we honestly believe we’re the only ones?  That’s ridiculous.  There is more than us out there.  And if we’re really lucky, we won’t piss any of them off.”

            “I hear you.”

            “So, tonight,” Felicity began.  “Are we still on?  Oliver called up this really great Italian place, Carmine’s, and made reservations.”

            Skye nodded.  “Yeah, we’re still on. Ward’s, uh, really excited to see you guys.”  She smirked when she thought of Ward’s lack of enthusiasm.  “He can’t wait.”

            “Well, great.  We’re really excited, too. Actually, we…” Felicity trailed off, her gaze caught on Skye’s computer.  “Hey, something weird is happening on your screen.  It…” she walked over quickly, “…someone’s remote-ed in.”

            Skye turned around and looked at her screen.  “What?”

            Sure enough, her mouse was moving around her screen on its own. It darted over to the word icon and began opening documents.  Skye immediately began trying to move the mouse, but her controls had been disabled.

            “Shit,” Skye breathed out.  “Someone must have hacked in.  This isn’t good, right?”

            Felicity leaned forward, looking over Skye’s shoulder.  “No.  It’s definitely not. Can you block their access?”

            Skye answered with a flurry of typing.  She went into the back channels, trying to find some way to head off whoever decided to go on a joy ride in her computer.  She wondered idly if it was SHIELD, but she was their hacker and she sure as hell wasn’t hacking into her own computer. 

            “Try to find the source,” Felicity suggested.

            “Already on it,” Skye said.  “I just need to hone in on where the signal is coming from.  If I can just latch on, I should be able to trace it.”

            “They always leave a fingerprint somewhere.  Keep working, I’m going to tell Diggle.  He should know if we’ve been compromised.”

            Skye nodded.  “Okay.”

            Felicity disappeared and Skye continued working, wondering idly as she went about the sourcing if she should just sit back and let whoever was trying to infiltrate Quinn Worldwide come right in.  Maybe it’d even help.  But, she had an assignment, and she wasn’t even close to completing it. Interference like this could help, but it also could severely impact her progress at the company. She couldn’t chance that.

            She went to her very last option to source the hack, and inhaled sharply when it somehow worked.  Among the string of codes and figures on her computer screen was one beautiful IP address.

            “Gotcha,” she murmured.

            All she had to do now was locate the IP address, and she’d know exactly who she was dealing with.  After a few minutes more, she had her location.  An office in Quinn Worldwide.

            “What’s happening,”  Diggle asked, stepping into her cubicle with Felicity.  “Did you find the source of the hack?”

            “I did,” Skye said, glancing back.  “It’s an office here.  On the thirteenth floor?”

            Diggle’s eyes widened and then he turned around quickly and rushed out of the cubicle. Skye looked at Felicity in confusion and asked, “What’s on the thirteenth floor?”

            Felicity’s face had gone pale.  “Ian Quinn’s office.”

            “I thought he was never here.”

            “He’s usually not.  But, he has an office for whenever he is here.  Are you sure that’s where the signal is coming from?”

            “I’m positive.”

            Skye got up from her computer and hurried out of her cubicle, Felicity on her heels.  If there was someone else trying to get insider information on Quinn Worldwide, Skye needed to know. She knew how information became sanitized as it trickled down.  She needed to see this herself.

            “Stay here,” Skye told Felicity before getting on the elevator.

            “If you think I’m going to stay down here while you run off to be hero, then you have a big surprise coming your way,” Felicity said firmly. “I’m coming.”

            “Fine. Diggle is probably going to kick us out anyway.”

            “You are very right about that.”

            The elevator zoomed up to the thirteenth floor and they stepped out into a large lobby that led to a single office, that of Ian Quinn. Skye strode forward, wondering who she would find.  The secretary tried to stop her, but she kept going, ignoring the nasal rebukes.  Skye was surprised to find Ian Quinn sitting at his desk, Diggle on his way out.

            “Ah, you must be Skye,” Ian said with a placid smile. “Please, come in. Felicity, if you don’t mind, I’d like a few moments alone with our newest addition.”

            “Of course, sir,” Felicity said.  She hesitated for a moment and then said, “So, that hack was…”

            “Nothing but a test,” Ian finished.  “Of which I heard you and Skye excelled.  Mr. Diggle told me that you were involved, as well.”

            Felicity nodded.  “Yes, um…I’ll leave you two now.”

            Felicity left the room and Skye glanced around, taking in the strange artwork on the walls.  It was the type of paintings that Skye could imagine someone purchasing to try to be artsy. They’d talk about how they really appreciated the artists’ rage, love or whatever other trite emotion they falsely read into the blank brush strokes.

            “You have continued to impress me, Skye,” he said, pulling her attention toward him.  “I expected at least fifteen minutes before you sourced the hack.  You did it in less than five.”

            “Nimble fingers,” Skye said, spreading her fingers out in front of her.

            Ian laughed.  “You aren’t accustomed to receiving compliments are you?  I can practically see you shrink away from that one.”

            Skye shrugged.  “Compliments aren’t really my thing.  In my experience, they’re usually because someone wants something.”

            She thought back to her foster kid days when she’d made the seemingly overnight transformation from girl to young woman, and the new attention it garnered.  The looks. The compliments. The wandering hands.

            “You’re right,” Ian said, studying her face.  “I do want something.”  He stood up suddenly.  “Come with me, I want to show you something.”

            She felt a sudden tightness in her jaw.  She still didn’t exactly know what to make of him – besides the evil mastermind bit she’d worked out on her own – and following him to some undetermined place didn’t seem like the greatest idea.  But, she couldn’t say no.  This felt like one of those moments that would define her time here, and she didn’t want to make the wrong choice.

            Time to be brave, she thought to herself.

            “Lead the way, boss man.”

            They walked out to the lobby and Ian tossed off to his secretary, “Hold my calls until I get back, Trish.  We shouldn’t be long.”

            “Of course, Mr. Quinn.”

            He pressed the button for the elevator and the doors sprung open immediately. They stepped inside and Ian pulled his wallet out of the back pocket of his pants.  He slipped his fingers inside the pristine leather and when they emerged a charcoal card with a silver “IQ” written on the front was held between them. He pressed the card against a sensor and when it blinked green he punched a button on the elevator console that read “L3”.  Skye sucked in a breath.

            Nothing good happened on lower levels.  Skye had no real basis for this, but she believed it anyway. Her stomach dropped before the elevator. It moved quickly, and within only a few breaths the doors were sliding open again.  Where the upper levels were what she’d describe as techy-chic, the lower level had an almost rough quality to it.  She found the nice wood-paneled walls above covered brick walls. The lighting was industrial, bare light bulbs clearly designed for function over form.

            “I have a confession to make,” Ian said, walking down the hallway. “I’ve brought you here under false pretenses.”

            Skye felt her skin prickle.

            “False pretenses?”

            “I didn’t hire you to work in advanced technologies,” he explained. “Your talents are wasted there. I have bigger hopes for you.”

            “And what are those?”

            They stopped in front of a door and he turned toward her, his face serious. “This may strike you as unusual, even unprofessional, but I highly value what is behind this door. I have put my life’s work into it. So, you can understand that I have to do what’s necessary to protect it.”

            Skye silently plead for her face to not reveal the fear coursing through her body.

            “I understand,” she said softly.

            “I need you to agree to commit to what is behind this door right now. Before we go in. I need your promise that you will take this job.”

            “Without knowing what it is?” she stammered.  An uncomfortable laugh left her mouth.  “You can’t be serious.”

            “I am very serious.”

            She could tell he wasn’t lying.  There was a strange fierceness to his eyes, and his mouth was pulled almost into a grimace.  Whatever was behind that door was extremely important to him.  And somehow, she’d been handed a key to his crazy world. She’d be a fool to say no.

            “Okay, yes,” she said slowly.  “I’ll take the job.”

            His face settled into a much more agreeable countenance, more like when she had met him upstairs.  “I knew you would. It goes without saying that what is behind this door must stay between you and myself.  Discretion is paramount.”

            “My lips are sealed,” she said.  “Scout’s honor.  Not that I ever was a scout, but, you know, the gist is the same.”

            Ian smiled a bit and opened the door.  She expected some sort of grand secret lair, but instead it was a small dank room that smelled faintly of mold.  A long table was set in the middle with several glass boxes. She walked forward and saw that each held four or five mice.  They had some sort of monitor on them, that she imagined sent information to the quite tech-y looking computer in the corner.  It was the only part of the room that interested her, and she walked over to it to explore.

            “How much do you know about frequencies, Skye?” he asked.

            “Frequencies? Like sounds?”

            “Yes, like sound.  Everything reverberates at its own frequency,” he said.  “Even we do.”  He walked slowly, running his hand along the table.  “This table does. These glass boxes. The mice.  We have our own frequencies, and we absorb each other’s frequencies.”

            Skye nodded, not quite knowing where this all was going.

            “What if you could use those frequencies?” he proposed. “Take what we do naturally, and make it benefit us?”

            He flicked a switch and the mice suddenly began twitching, their bodies convulsing painfully.  Skye rushed forward and demanded, “What are you doing?”

            “The floors of the geranium are hooked up with electricity.”

            “You’re electrocuting them?”

            Skye only then noticed small monitors next to the boxes and the mice’s vitals flashed.  Blood pressure skyrocketing.  Pulse racing.

            “It comes in pulses,” Ian said calmly.  “It does not do them any real harm.  It only drives up their vitals.”

            “What’s the point of this?”

            “To witness this,” he said, flicking another switch. A high pitched noise rang from the glass boxes.  Skye watched in confusion as the mice stilled, their ears pricking to the new noise. Somehow, their vitals normalized almost automatically.

            “How is that possible?”

            “The frequency erases their memory,” Ian returned simply.

            Skye looked at him with wide eyes.  “It what?”

            He smiled.  “It erases their memory. Which brings us to why you are here. I want you to adapt it for humans.”

 

* * *

 

 

            Skye told Ward about this that night when she got home.  She was still incredulous, unable to believe that this actually existed and she somehow was in the middle of it.  Even more, Ian Quinn seemed entirely oblivious to the whole myriad of real issues – morality the least of them – that came with wanting to mess with people’s memories. But, then again, _evil mastermind_.

            “You have to keep working on it,” Ward said.

            “I know I do. I think if I ever try to back out he’ll lock me down there until I leave in a body bag.”

            “We’ll call Coulson and give him an update.”

            “It’s six thirty,” Skye reminded him, giving him a knowing look that he entirely missed. In confusion he asked her, “What about six thirty?”

            “We have to be at Carmine’s at seven.  We need to get ready.”

            “We’re still doing that dinner? Ian Quinn is trying to wipe the memory of everyone in a ten mile radius.”

            “Twenty, actually,” Skye corrected.  “He wants me to make it reach a twenty mile radius.”

            Ward gave her a look. “Dinner can wait, Skye.”

            “No,” Skye held stubbornly. “It can’t.”

            “Skye-“

            “Part of this working is up keeping appearances.  That’s even more important now.  We can’t slip up. Cancelling this dinner would look bad.”

            “You said yourself that this Felicity person is harmless,” Ward said reasonably.   Too reasonably. “Just tell her you’re sick or something.”

            Skye narrowed my eyes and hissed, “I cannot believe you.  You are so using this to try to get out of dinner.” 

            “Oh, come on –“

            “You were the one who was all – Felicity could be evil.  She could be the devil incarnate herself!”

            “I never said that,” he returned drily.

            “But now that you don’t want to go you’re suddenly – oh, she’s fine!  Don’t worry about her!  You’re being ridiculous, Ward!”

            “What I want to do is update our director about a crazy memory-swiping-frequency Ian Quinn is having you develop.  What _you_ want to do is go on a double date.” He paused for emphasis. “And who is being ridiculous again?”

            Skye knew he had a point. But, she _also_ knew he was using that point to get out of dinner. And, dammit, she was really looking forward to some good lasagna.

            “Let’s compromise,” she said. “We go to dinner but nothing after. I already know for a fact that Felicity was planning on dragging us to this salsa bar afterwards. We come back here, update Coulson, we both win.”  Ward didn’t look convinced, and she told him, “A few hours is not going to change anything.”

            He sighed. “Fine.  Where is this place again?  Do I need to wear a tie?”

            She smirked. “I don’t think so. Just put on that one grey sweater you have.  The v-neck? That’ll work.”

            He nodded. “Alright, fine. I’ll be out in a few minutes. Are you changing?”

            Skye nodded. “Yes, definitely. I’ve been in these clothes too long. You change first then I’ll get going.”

            He nodded and disappeared into the bedroom.  He came out a few minutes later, clad in the grey sweater she recommended and, from what she could smell, a fresh spray of cologne.  She brushed past him on the way into the bedroom and she absentmindedly rubbed the part of her arm that came into contact with his.  She’d been thinking of her outfit all week and quickly pulled out the dark red dress she’d settled on earlier that week. It had a scoop neckline that showed just the hint of the swell of what was beneath.  The material was structured, which avoided the straight line of the dress from clinging.  She wound her hair into a bun at the top of her head and added some dangly earrings. A few additional swipes of makeup here and there, and she was ready to go.  She sprayed some perfume on when she left the bedroom.

            Ward was sitting on the couch, looking supremely unhappy to be going anywhere when she walked out. He looked up, poised to make some sort of smart comment, but he fell silent when he saw her. She felt his gaze travel down her form and her cheeks flushed.  He caught himself and cleared his throat.

            “We should go,” he said, standing up.  He strode past her and she sighed, grabbing her purse from the kitchen table.  On her way out she murmured, “This should be fun.”

**Author's Note:**

> Would you like to see more? Let me know!


End file.
